


Some Like it Hot

by youreyestheyglow



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 1800 words of fluff, Fluff, M/M, eren caring for levi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 16:10:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youreyestheyglow/pseuds/youreyestheyglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi's had a bad day and Eren decides that pampering is precisely the way to end that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Like it Hot

You’re sweaty and disgusting when you walk through the door, and you know it.

Eren frowns at you when he looks up, probably because you look like shit.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, kid.”

He rolls his eyes and bounces to his feet. “You’re taking a bath.”

“I –”

“Hate baths, don’t want to stew in your own filth, blah blah blah, see if I care. I’ll hose you down first.”

“ _You’ll_ hose me down?” You grin. “I got along for a good few decades without you, you know, I can actually shower myself.”

“Don’t care,” he says cheerfully as he wraps you up in a hug and tugs you towards the bathroom.

You sigh and let him drag you around. You’ve never been able to resist his smile, and the blinding grin that splits his face when he realizes you’re not fighting makes the whole day bearable.

“Arms up,” he commands when you reach the bathroom.

“How old am I, two?”

“Yes. How tall are you…?” He asks teasingly.

You roll your eyes and hold your arms above your head. You’re not saying “This tall” though. Fuck that.

He pulls your shirt over your head and turns and starts the water.

“I like it –”

“Hot, I know. As hot as it gets.” He smiles at you as he undoes your pants. “We’ve been married for six years now, I know how hot you like your showers.”

You let him tug your pants down. He actually holds your hands as you step out of them, like you might fall. “Eren, I’m forty, not eighty. I can step out of my pants without tripping.”

“What, am I not allowed to take care of you every so often?”

“There’s a difference between taking care of me and treating me like a senior citizen,” you grumble.

He kisses your forehead and turns to test the water. “Okay, get in.” He holds your hand as you step in like you’re a princess with a ball gown to support. Maybe he’ll stick a pacifier in your mouth and call it a day.

You expect him to aim the showerhead at you and wait until you say it’s good enough, but he holds it close to your skin so the water doesn’t splatter everywhere. He hands you the showerhead for a moment, grabbing the louffa and soaping it up before taking it back. He rubs soap over your chest and stomach before turning you around and washing your back, washing your arms and legs just as thoroughly as you do, moving from top to bottom just like you do. You can feel the sweat and grime washing off your body, and the tension leaves with it.

Eren smiles peacefully at you as he squeezes the louffa out. “Better?”

You nod and he kisses the tip of your nose before bending down to put the stopper in the drain, turning the showerhead off and the faucet on. “Sit down, I’ll be back in a minute.”

You let him help you down, and then he disappears out the door.

The only good thing about your height is that it allows you to sit in a bathtub full of water without your knees sticking out.

The water level rises around you, enveloping you in its heat, caressing your skin with gentle waves that lap back and forth between the walls of the bathtub.

Eren returns and turns off the water before sitting down on the floor next to the bathtub, his head right by yours. He holds up _Much Ado about Nothing_. “Where were we?”

You close your eyes. “Act 3, scene 1. Hero was talking.”

You hear the pages flip, and a couple minutes later Eren sighs. “Found it. _If it prove so, then loving goes by haps; Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps…_ ” Eren’s voice washes over you, warm and soothing as the water around you. “Beatrice: _What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? Stand I condemned…_ ”

You know the play, you’ve loved it for years, but you’ve never heard Eren read it before, and in his voice Shakespeare’s words take on an entirely new meaning, a depth they’ve never had before.

He reads a few pages and stops.

You open your eyes to find him staring at you. “Something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “I thought you were asleep.”

You shake your head. “You can stop, if you want.”

He smiles. “I don’t mind reading to you.” He brushes the hair off your forehead and picks back up. “Don Pedro: _Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him. Conclude, conclude, he is in love._ ”

You find yourself mouthing the lines along with him. _Claudio: Nay, but I know who loves him. Don Pedro: That would I know too. I warrant, one that knows him not. Claudio: Yes, and his ill conditions, and in despite of it all, dies for him._

You close your eyes again.

His hand strokes your hair.

He probably shouldn’t be doing that. He didn’t wash your hair, and it’s gotta be greasy.

But he doesn’t seem to mind, running his fingers through it as he reads, occasionally removing his hand when he’s having trouble turning the pages with just one hand.

Eventually, he dips his hand in the water. “It’s cold, why didn’t you tell me?”

You open your eyes and shrug. “I was enjoying listening to you. I didn’t want you to stop.”

He sighs, but doesn’t seem particularly annoyed, so you ignore it and reach forward to pull out the stopper. Eren helps you stand before turning on the faucet, and you back away from the cold water that comes pouring out.

Eren looks at your hair and grimaces.

“It’s greasy, isn’t it,” you ask.

He shakes his head. “No, no, it’s just gonna be impossible to wash without getting wet.”

“I can wash my own hair, you don’t –”

He pulls his shirt over his head. “Shush.”

So you let him strip in silence, admiring his tan body as he hops out of his pants. He gently pushes you back against the wall of the shower before turning on the showerhead, preventing the cold water from hitting you and only letting you move forward when it turns hot. He stands behind you, letting you face into the water while his long fingers work shampoo into your hair.

His nails scrape gently against your skull, scratching and massaging your head, firmly rubbing circles into your hair.

He turns you around and moves you back under the water, kissing your temple when all the suds fall away, before tugging you back around and dumping conditioner in your hair.

You let yourself lean back against his chest, and after a while he stops trying to massage the conditioner in, content to just thread his arms around your waist and hold you against him until he decides the conditioner’s been in there long enough and twirls you around under the water.

He kisses your other temple. “Stay here for a few minutes, okay? I’ll come back in a second.”

“All right.”

He slips out of the shower so quickly you barely notice the cold breeze that flies past the open curtain.

He’s back a few minutes later, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, holding one of his button-ups and your favorite pair of boxers.

He actually towels you off, the idiot, and when he squats to help you step into your boxers – which you apparently can’t do yourself – he kisses your thigh. He kisses the base of your throat, too, when he helps you shrug on his shirt.

He knows you too well. This shirt is comfortable as fuck, and big on you.

He takes your hand and leads you into the kitchen.

You sniff. “Is that chicken noodle soup?”

He grins. “And tea.”

“What am I, a sick child?”

He kisses your cheek. “No, you’re my husband and you’re tired and tense.”

Six years later, and you still smile a little when he calls you his husband.

He notices, of course.

He eats with you, but instead of drinking tea, he picks up _Much Ado about Nothing._

“Hero: _God give me joy to wear it, for my heart is exceeding heavy._ Margaret: _‘Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man…_ ”

You sip your tea and let his voice wash over you in warm, clean waves.

He takes your mug and bowl when you’re done and washes it all for you. You watch him in silence, the way his shoulder blades move under his shirt, the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips. The beautiful smile that brightens your world every day, which he tosses over his shoulder as casually as a question about the weather, like he’s not the most blindingly wonderful person you’ve ever known.

You stand when he returns to you, and he bends and scoops you up, lowering you next to the table so you can grab _Much Ado_ and carrying you marriage-style into the bedroom. You reach a hand up and play with the hair at the base of his neck. “How did I ever get lucky enough to marry you?”

He laughs and kisses your hair. “I’ve asked myself the same question in reverse every day.”

You smile and lean into his chest.

He sets you carefully on the bed and begins unbuttoning your shirt.

“You just buttoned this up,” you point out.

He shrugs. “Didn’t want you to be cold.” He pulls it off you and motions for you to roll over, pushing you flat onto your stomach and straddling your legs.

His hands start at the base of your back, massaging up the sides of your spine to the base of your neck before pressing against your shoulder blades, squeezing your shoulders and pressing the heels of his hands into your back straight down to where your back ends and your butt begins, and you feel yourself melt into the bed.

You stop questioning what you ever did to deserve this, and start questioning if there’s anyone in the world, anyone at all, who’s good enough for Eren. The answer’s no. You know without even considering the question.

He massages you until you’re about to flop over the edge of consciousness and pass out, and then you feel his lips at the base of your spine. He trails kisses up your back until he reaches the base of your neck.

You twist around, rolling out from under him, and pull him down to your lips for a real kiss.

He kisses you once before standing to turn off the lights, and when he returns, he pulls you into his arms and kisses you again.

“Eren?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

It’s dark, but you can feel his grin against your lips anyway. “I know.”


End file.
